“Black Myself”
Amythyst Kiah
Written by Amythyst Kiah
2021
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself: When I’m driving alone in my car, I blast Amythyst Kiah’s “Black Myself” and sing along.
It’s a testament to how infectious and forceful Kiah’s anthem of empowerment is. I’m a lot of things as a human, but I’m not a queer black woman, so this song is in no way for me or about me. But goddamn, does it still get me fired up.
Truly, I can think of no better lyric to reflect the battle for the soul of country music than what Kiah has written here. I’m not interested in hearing another generation of aggrieved old white men sing about how traditional country music has been murdered or otherwise taken from them. No, I am far more moved by hearing Kiah snarl, “I pick the banjo up and they stare at me / ‘Cause I’m black myself.” Or hearing her declare, “Your precious God ain’t gonna bless me / ‘Cause I’m black myself,” with a complete awareness of how the blessings and grace of the evangelical movement come not with strings attached but with a noose.
Kiah has quickly emerged as one of the most riveting and important voices in the country space, and it’s because she demonstrates both an unimpeachable mastery of the genre’s forms and a refusal to apologize for taking up space in a genre that views people like her as interlopers. She minces not one word on “Black Myself,” and, on the solo version of the single, which followed a collaborative recording on the landmark Songs of Our Native Daughters album, she delivers those words like an unstoppable force of nature.
Additional Listening:
Alternate recordings
- The slightly less urgent but still phenomenal rendition that opened the Our Native Daughters album, on which Kiah is joined by Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, and Allison Russell.
- “Black Myself (Remix),” by, of all people, Moby, who had previously invited Kiah to sing the memorable hook on a new version of his hit single, “Natural Blues.”
More essential Amythyst Kiah
- In addition to being a powerful writer, Kiah’s also a tremendous interpreter, as her covers of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” and “In the Pines” demonstrate.
- Her collaboration with S.G. Goodman, “Play God and Destroy The World,” will– spoiler alert– figure prominently on our 2024 best-of round-up.
Country Universe: A 20th Anniversary Retrospective
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I credit the community here at Country Universe for introducing me to Amythst Kiah.
I just finished reading Alice Randall’s “My Black Country.” In it, she establishes the first family of black country music: DeFord Bailey, Lil Hardin, Ray Charles, Charley Pride , and Herb Jefferies.
Coincidentally, I also just purchased Josh Turner’s 2024 “This Country Music Thing” album. In the liner note, he wrote a brief essay reviewing country music’s history beginning with Al Hopkins, Jimmie Rodgers and the Carter Family. He then mentions Roy Acuff, Red Foley, Ernest Tubb, and Hank Williams. He goes on to later name drop Ronnie Milsap, Kenny Rogers, George Jones, Terry Gibbs, The Oak Ridge Boys, and Randy Travis. He acknowledges the significance of genre and the importance of cultural categories. He mentions diversity and equity in the spirit of celebrating differences and the importance of accepting those cultural categories. He says,” Although God called me to be a country music singer, I don’t disparage anyone for being a pop artist, an R & B artist, or a rapper. I think we all have to follow our hearts and contribute to society in our own unique and beautiful way.”
He later thanks his label, country radio, The Grand Ole Opry, his business team, and the fans. He ends by celebrating his accomplishments as a country music singer while sharing the sorrows and difficulties experienced along the way.
I cannot imagine he was contractually obligated to include this essay, so I am assuming what he shares about being a country musician was meaningful to him and the point he hoped to make was intentional, purposeful, and willful.
It is also a rank example of the “know-your-place-aggression” Jonathan cited in the preamble to the Best of 2024 list.
Or what Beyonce said about genre as “a code word to keep us in our place as artists” during her acceptance speech for Country Music Album of the Year at the Grammys.
Reading Josh Turner try to square the broken country music circle invited an imagined alternate application of Dale Watson’s lyrics:
That’s country, my ass,
Who do they think we am?
Force-feed us that shit.
Ain’t you real tired of it?
Tell ’em, stick it up high,
Where the sun don’t shine.
Get pissed, an’ get mad,
‘Cause that’s country, my ass.
I gave Turner a pass on “White Noise” back in 2006, but that’s harder to do here, especially given his coda to This Country Music Thing is explicitly about honouring unsung heroes. At the end of the title track, Turner samples a series of personally meaningful country songs to him, ending with Hank Jr’s “A Country Boy Can Survive.”
I start to worry when coincidence sounds like a dog-whistle.
As disheartening as it is to have an artist like Amythist Kiah courageously sing about their country music experiences with stories like “Black Myself” only to have the broader industry and specific, institutionally sanctioned, stars from within the Mother Church of country music not hear a word they’re saying, I am insanely excited and eager to hear what Kiah does next in ways I am not overly excited to hear Turner’s next work.
History offers country music the opportunity to remember what it was for the people of its dominant narrative to be an unwanted and uncomfortable blemish on the image of the Athens of the South, to have a voice not worthy of being heard much less promoted, to be something less-than, to be an an embarrassment, to be put somewhere just below by a more privileged class of people.
So I guess Turner is right, we do have the opportunity to now recognize the genre’s unsung heroes.
As good as Turner’s genre exercise in country music is, the future belongs to Kiah and her generation of artists giving new voice to that original hillbilly experience of alienation and displacement. That outsider perspective born of being “the other” is what will grow and sustain this living country music thing for a historically neglected, but nascent, audience and a new era of country music fan.
Turner can sit and spin his dusty classic country records all night long and never get close to the excitement and thrill of what this reformation of country music will look and sound like when it fully touches down and takes root.
Peter,
I don’t want this one to get lost in the flurry of new comments you’ve left on this feature, but this is a tremendous piece of writing all on its own.
I’ve long looked askance at Josh Turner– I must have memory-holed “White Noise,” though I see that I called it out for what it is when I reviewed its parent album for Slant at the time– but I only heard his latest album on streaming. So I missed his personal essay entirely, and I’m grateful that you’ve added it to the conversation around know-your-place aggression. It is, indeed, a perfect example of that concept in action.
I regret not having read that grotesquerie prior to including the album in the “11-40” range of our year-end list. As much as I think an artist’s stated intention can– and often should– be considered independently of a finished work, that certainly provides important additional context. Thank you for responding so thoughtfully here.
Of note, this is the second time just today that a reader has specifically cited know-your-place aggression, and I cannot overstate how much it means to me to know that our readers are truly engaging with what we’re really trying to do here at CU.
Jonathan,
I am just happy somebody endured the deluge of my comments-catch-up in response to some aging posts, much less actually took the time to read them.
I am also thrilled to be able to participate in conversations again with this community.
A final comment on the Turner essay is that after reading it several times, I noticed he identified artists who chose to record pop or R&B as musicians but refused to extend the courtesy of that title to rap artists. The inference is they are just “rappers” to him, apparently neither worthy of being considered musicians nor being welcomed under the musical tent.
He says, “…the real beauty is in our differences and accepting those differences… I think we all have to follow our hearts and contribute to society in our own unique and beautiful way.”